


Silence is Consent

by kkscatnip (autohaptic)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anthropomorphic, Asexual Character, Community: smut_fest, Consent Issues, Furry, Hand Jobs, M/M, Master/Slave, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, caste system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 03:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autohaptic/pseuds/kkscatnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of a Worker, an Icarus, and their Owner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence is Consent

"Fore on the landing!" a voice called in from outside, the sound coming from the landing pad high on the wall of the factory. Moments later, Gale ducked inside, feathered crest half-raised and his metal wings condensed for the doorway. He smiled at someone, probably not Simeon, and flared his wings out to make the short hop to the balcony where Antony's office was. 

Simeon tried not to watch too closely, his ears going back as he focused maybe a little too intently on the machine he was meant to be fixing. Minutes were money, Antony liked to say. Not that Simeon ever saw any of that money.

Besides that, an Icarus like Gale was so far out of Simeon's caste that it wasn't even funny. Antony had the power, had used it too if Simeon believed the rumors. Himself, though? Stop thinking it. 

Even if he couldn't stop himself watching from the corner of his eye at Gale's fluid stride, his thin frame somehow making him look more graceful instead of less. He should have looked ridiculous, but in stead he just looked strong, his flight muscles standing out stark against his lean form. Unthinkingly, Simeon's ears tilted forward with interest, the end of his tail curling, and one of the floor workers waiting for him to fix the machine snickered. 

"Fuck him with your eyes, why don't you?" she muttered. 

Simeon growled softly at her, his cheetah genes serving him well enough that her rabbit ears lay flat against her head before he returned to work. Minutes were money; he set the goal for himself to get this hunk of junk fixed before Gale came out of Antony's office. It may or may not have been a realistic goal.

╩

He shouldn't have worried, as the goal turned out to be quite realistic. According to the giant clock on the wall, Simeon had spent eleven minutes outside Antony’s office, debating whether or not he could interrupt whatever was going on inside. Antony had asked to be informed as soon as it was fixed, but he hated to be interrupted during meetings with Gale.

Naturally, the rumor mill said it was because they were fucking, but Simeon hadn't witnessed that with his own eyes. If they were having sex, they were being disturbingly quiet about it. Antony's desk was creaky and the floor made noise when you walked on it, much less... 

Fuck it, Simeon decided, and knocked on the office door. The way his tail flitted around had everything to do with his nerves.

Antony's voice didn't sound at all strained when he said, "Simeon?" But this was the man who'd kept his cool last year when the inspector found code violations with the machines all over the place; if he could stay calm during that, he could stay calm during _anything_.

"Yeah, boss," Simeon said, probably too loudly. He couldn't make his ears face forward, and couldn't help the way his canines made him lisp.

"Come in."

The bright, beautiful smile on Gale's face kind of took Simeon's breath away. Some avians looked silly when they smiled, but Simeon's beak looked more like a muzzle than a beak, wide and not too long. That Simeon managed to pull the door shut behind him was a minor miracle.

"I take it you managed to fix the compactor?" Antony asked. 

"This time," Simeon said, voice only faltering a little, but growing stronger as he continued. He was good at talking about work, at least. "If you want it to keep working, you're really going to have to buy more flottar." It was the floating metal that made life in the clouds possible, and allowed people like Gale, who had a bird's thin, hollow bones but only vestigial wings, to fly. His wings were prosthetic and made of flottar, though he'd taken them off for the moment. Getting comfortable, clearly.

It also helped the machines in the factory not collapse under their own weight, which they had been doing lately, a bit. Aluminum was cheap, but it wasn't worth a shit.

Antony scowled. His face was so expressive, when he wanted it to be. Big otter eyes were probably why; Simeon had never met an otter who wasn't expressive. "I'll have to keep an eye on market prices." He turned to Gale. "And you keep an ear out for an Icarus upgrading their parts." 

Pre-worked flottar wasn't quite as buoyant as virgin flottar, but it was a hell of a lot cheaper, and better than aluminum besides. 

Gale just grinned, tilting his head. "What's in it for me?" 

The way Antony looked at Gale and the sudden heated scent coming from both of them told Simeon everything he needed to know about their relationship. They were fucking. It might not be here, but they were fucking. The knowledge didn't make him comfortable.

"Simeon," Antony said, simply, but not like he was calling Simeon's name. Like he was making an offer.

Gale raised one yellow-feathered brow and straightened up to look squarely at Simeon. "You okay with that?" 

What the _fuck_? Simeon stuttered, "I, I, uh, I--er. I t-think--I, m-m-maybe I..." ears back, suddenly unable to look at either of them. Yeah, he wanted to be close with Gale, but to be used as an... an _incentive_? It was strange and ill-fitting. 

Of course this kind of thing was Antony's right; he owned Simeon in a way he didn't own Gale. Icaruses were contracted, not bought. They were too valuable to buy. Antony had never... well, he wasn't _known_ for taking certain liberties, anyway. 

"I guess," Simeon heard himself whisper, finally, eyes still on the warped metal floor. 

The floor creaked as one of them got up, and Simeon raised his eyes in time to see Gale walking toward him. He took a step back, but the door was there, and anyway it was a small room. Gale put his arms around Simeon's neck, his vestigial wings tucked away but his arms were still fluffy with the tiny feathers he had, interspersed with fur. Not a pure avian, then. 

He was so warm, so soft. Simeon couldn't breathe, kept getting stuck on the intake, wheezing, though his heart beat impossibly fast. He wasn't sure he could do this.

"You're allowed to refuse," Gale whispered, maybe too soft for Antony to hear. Loud enough for Simeon. "He won't thank you if you let him force you." 

Simeon drew in a few shaky breaths; his head spun. Gale's breath was so hot. He couldn't process anything but the warmth of Gale's body here in the cool, cool sky. It made him uncomfortable and hot all over and--

"Pretty sure you broke him," Antony said, his voice soft and close enough to make Simeon jump. Why hadn't he heard the floor creaking?

Gale's clawed fingers brushed the back of Simeon's neck; the feeling should have been dulled by the thicker fur there, but wasn't. Simeon made a little sound in his throat, to which Gale grinned. "Does that mean you'll do it? Willingly." 

He nodded without meaning to. His voice wouldn't work. He didn't want to be a tidbit offered for a job well done. But, Gale, even if sex wasn't exactly what Simeon had fantasized about... 

"Excellent!" Antony said happily. 

Gale pulled away and looked Simeon over, like he was trying to figure out if the answer was genuine. Like it _mattered_.

Can't deal with him now, Simeon thought as he took deep breaths, closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. He'd deal with Gale when he didn't feel so light-headed. His legs were shaky too. Annoying. Just as annoying as the fact that his heart rate wasn't slowing much.

"Go home after work," Antony said, slowly. Simeon followed the words better than he would've imagined. "I'll send out Gale for you and he'll let you know what to do after that _if_ you still want to do this." 

Another chance to back out. As if he really could. Simeon nodded his acknowledgment of the plan, opening his eyes. His breath still came in little gasps, but at least he breathed in _and_ out now. 

"I need you to calculate how much flottar will be required to do the repairs you deem the most necessary," Antony said, in his I'm-the-boss voice.

The orders helped to calm Simeon's heart rate like nothing else had. It didn't go back to normal, but it finally slowed enough that he caught his breath properly. "Yes, sir," he said, his voice a lot more faint than he would've liked. 

Antony stepped away, back behind his desk again. "Both of you are dismissed. Go do your jobs." 

Simeon was probably a lot happier to follow that order than he should have been. Gale grumbled (Gale always grumbled; it was endearing) but Simeon left without comment.

╩

Doing what Antony had told him to calmed Simeon down a lot. He liked machines, liked to believe that he could listen to them tell him what they needed. They always had nice, logical systems, and when he repaired them they might break again, but they broke in predictable ways and he always knew how to fix them.

Other furs weren't like that.

Case in point: Gale, arriving at Simeon's about an hour after Simeon got home. He didn't have on his wings, as it was against the law for an Icarus to wear them when they were off-duty. 

The look in Gale's eyes said that he wanted this, but the first thing he said wasn't a greeting. It was "You can still refuse. That's why Antony does it this way."

Simeon tilted his head, stepping away from the door, welcoming Gale into his little apartment. It was a little frightening, the idea that there was an established protocol for this. "Do you do it often?" 

Gale's eyes went a little wide; he hadn't meant to say that much, clearly. "Not a lot, but--it's different with you." 

Is it? Simeon wondered, but said nothing, waiting to see if Gale would elaborate. He had learned when he was little that furs had a tendency to reveal things when you stayed quiet.

"Normally it's because he wants someone. Or wants to see me with them, you know. But--but we both want you. Have for a while." He paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. " _But_ , you can still refuse if you don't want to. No harm, no foul."

Simeon hesitated for a moment, and decided to give honesty for honesty: "It's good that you believe that." This was about as close as he was willing to come to saying he didn't want it. His heart rate began to pick up, and he added quickly. "Please, let's go. I'll lose my nerve otherwise." 

Gale shrugged and led Simeon out of the door. It wasn't really necessary, sending Gale like this; Simeon knew where Antony lived. But he followed quietly, and the walk made him feel better, besides. It was harder to freak out in the cool air.

╩

"Are you _honestly_ sure?" Antony asked.

He'd never had one before, but Simeon was starting to develop a complex about being asked if he was sure about something in which he had no choice. But he couldn't make himself say yes, the word just got caught in his throat before it could get out his muzzle, so he shrugged instead.

In his chest, his heart went bam-bam-bam-bam against his ribcage. 

"That's not good enough," Antony said, his voice dropping down an octave. "I need a definite yes or I'm sending you home."

Too much. That was too much; Simeon was too old for these goddamned games. "If you _truly_ believe that I'm capable of meaningful consent, you are more deluded than I'd realized." Maybe Simeon just hadn't been paying that much attention. He hadn't wanted to know more about his Owner than he already did. The knowledge was more of a liability than a benefit. "By all means, though, continue to press me; I'm sure my answer will be in your favor."

For long moments, Antony stared at Simeon. Under that gaze, Simeon's tail whipped the air savagely, his ears back as he returned Antony's stare. 

"He said yes already, Antony," Gale said softly.

A few--well, a lot--more beats of Simeon's heart, and Antony sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Very well. Today we'll take the third floor, first door on the right. Gale knows how to prepare." 

Simeon flinched away when Gale tried to take his hand. Gale didn't try again, leading instead with looks and soft words. Turned out it wasn't quite as simple as go up the stairs twice; they had to go up certain sets of stairs and Gale held the door open for Simeon, smiling like he knew what that did to Simeon's heart rate. Like he knew how it made Simeon's breath catch.

Maybe he did. Maybe that was why he did it. Maybe not. 

Either way, when Simeon was inside the door with it shut behind him, Gale cupped one hand around the back of Simeon's neck and just as soon as Simeon looked up at him, Gale nuzzled his face against Simeon's.

Without Antony here, the intimate touch had a good kind of feeling to it. Like he'd done it because he wanted to, or because Simeon wanted him to, or... whatever. It didn't matter. Simeon nuzzled him back, muzzle to beak, purring softly as Gale rubbed his neck. Slow circles. Simeon found himself reaching up, running his hands with the grain of Gale's feathers, down his free arm until he twined his fingers with Gale's.

"I'm sorry," Gale whispered, his voice sounding much less like he was putting on a show than it ever had before. 

Simeon licked one side of Gale's face and then the other, smoothed his hands over Gale's crest, shaking his head over and over again. It wasn't Gale's fault. He wasn't exactly as powerless as Simeon, but not far off either. Never far off. 

"What does he mean by ready?" Simeon ventured as Gale pulled away and led Simeon to bed by the hand with their fingers twinned together. 

Gale nuzzled his beak against the back of Simeon's hand for a moment. "Aroused and free of encumbrance. But mostly aroused. He doesn't like obstacles." 

Or silly things like meaningful consent, Simeon thought, and let Gale pull him into bed. They released one another's hands at the same time, Simeon tumbling onto his back as Gale pulled off his own clothes.

An Icarus might wear clothes because though they were all avians of some type, flying was a chilly thing to do. A Worker like Simeon might wear them because the factory in the sky was also cold, especially for furs whose genes didn't involve undercoats or the like. Owners never wore clothes; it was a status symbol.

Clothes looked ridiculous, in Simeon's opinion, which was why he didn't wear them. But he knew that Gale's avian genes were crossed with some type of non-avian--no avian had vestigial wings that small any other way--and he imagined that being imperfectly furred and imperfectly feathered at the same time made for being cold often. 

Point was, he was trying very hard to not freak out, his heart beat pounding in his ears as Gale leaned over him and nuzzled his face against Simeon's again. "I--I wish it could be different," he said, gently. 

Antony saved Simeon from having to come up with a reply--what did one even say to that?--by choosing to enter right then and saying, "Mmm, it's always magnificent to see you unclothed, my dear."

Simeon's mouth fell open a little, his ears going back. He had imagined Gale and Antony's relationship to be a bit more like Simeon and Antony's than _my dear_ being used like that, completely carelessly in a way that said it was often used in such a manner. 

"Shh," Gale hissed softly, nuzzling Simeon's neck. "Tell me what you like."

But Simeon could only shake his head. He liked privacy. He liked tenderness, taking it slow. He wasn't very keen on intercourse--cheetah's bodies weren't built to accommodate most other animals' genitalia--but he loved what other people called foreplay--he could do that for hours and call himself satisfied, if he had sex at all. He enjoyed intimacy far more than sex.

Telling any of that to Gale was meaningless, though; they were going to do what Antony wanted, regardless of Simeon's desires. It could only be unpleasant to tell Gale the truth and reinforce how much he didn't want this. Instead, he licked his chops and leaned up to lick Gale: clavicle, shoulder, neck, cheek, and finally crest. He tasted like feathers and a clean, cool breeze.

"I like you," Simeon whispered, hopefully too soft for Antony to hear. "That's all. Whatever he wants, I'll be fine if it's you." He hoped it was true.

Gale nodded and nuzzled Simeon's face, then his neck, his breath warm against Simeon's fur before he nipped lightly, making Simeon whimper. His cock stirred a little, too, which was probably for the best.

"That's it," Antony said, and Simeon found himself looking over at his boss, who'd sat down in a large rounded chair that faced the bed. His legs were spread, one webbed hand kneading at his sheath already. 

The sight killed what little arousal had curled in Simeon's belly, and his stomach did a flip-flop thing as Gale rubbed at Simeon's chest, claws scraping Simeon's nipples in a light tease. He gasped, and hoped it sounded like pleasure. It was, a little, but it was also that hopeless felling welling up inside of him, the sharp burn of it under his chest.

"Look at you," Gale said, his voice warm, caring, black eyes focused on Simeon. His crest was up, vestigial wings folding and unfolding with excitement. He found Simeon's nipple with the pads of his fingers this time, and straddled Simeon's waist.

At least the pressure of him felt nice. The tip of Simeon's tail flicked back and forth slowly as Gale rocked their hips together, touched Simeon, and caught Simeon's hand to bring it to Gale's stomach. "I'm not ticklish," he said, with a lazy smile. 

Simeon gave a fleeting smile in return, more nerves than happiness, and Antony said, "He likes pain, a bit. Use your claws."

More flip-flopping in Simeon's stomach came at the sound of Antony's voice, but he pushed out his claws and ran one from Gale's clavicle to his stomach. In response the heat in Gale's eyes and the low scent of arousal intensified, along with Gale shivering as soon as Simeon's hand stilled and he pressed his palm between where Gale's navel should have been and his growing cock. No sheath--not a proper mammal.

Gale's breath fluttered when Simeon pulled his hand away, and Simeon forced himself to pay attention to that. To Gale. His own body was--was somewhere else. Meaningless. Gale was the only one who mattered, and this time Simeon used claws and earned the sight of Gale arching his back, moaning lowly. 

Antony made a similar sound over on the chair, and Gale gave him a brief look before shutting his eyes, letting his head fall back. 

Simeon--no, Gale. Now Gale growled a little when Simeon's hand went still, pressing against his belly again, where the feathers grew thinner and the fur thicker.

Perhaps, something in Simeon's mind pondered, this is part of why Gale wears clothes more often than not. Simeon, unsure what else to do, reached up with his other hand so that he could alternate, the claws of one hand running down Gale's chest as the palm of the other pressed above his cock. 

Gale began to shift after the first few strokes, rocking his hips, giving either low moans or high, almost tweeting noises. All of his sounds were beautiful.

"More," Antony commanded, not softly.

Still arching and wiggling on top of Simeon, Gale found Simeon's resting hand and pushed it down to his cock. His didn't seem to be as sensitive as Simeon's was, when Simeon retracted his claws and ran one finger from base to tip; Gale's reaction was no more than what Simeon had earned with his claws and Gale's torso.

"Is it not sensitive?" Simeon found himself asking, curious. 

Gale, still shivering, took a few breaths before he answered. "N-not as much as, as animals who-- _ah_ \--have sheaths."

Simeon had never thought on it before, but it made sense. Sheaths protected genitals. Unprotected genitals must, by nature, be tougher. He'd just never had sex with anyone who was without a sheath before. "Can I lick?" 

In answer, Gale crawled forward on his knees until he straddled Simeon's chest and reached above Simeon's head for something. A pillow, it turned out, when he told Simeon to lift his head and put it there to make holding his head up easier. 

"Thank you," Simeon murmured, licked his chops, and then licked Gale's cock. 

The shudder Gale gave was _gorgeous_. Beautiful. The moan, full-throated, was even better. His cock tasted--it was an odd taste, not one Simeon had ever had before, but not horrible. Maybe a little good.

Simeon heard the springs in the chair Antony sat on creak. "Feline tongues are interesting, are they not, Gale? I don't think you've ever had occasion to experience one before."

If Simeon hadn't started, it seemed like Gale would've answered, but Simeon had already begun to lap repeatedly at Gale's cock. The tip seemed especially sensitive, though when Simeon paid close attention to it Gale began to shudder even harder, hands grasping at Simeon's head, his ears, trying to pull him away and making wonderful, incoherent noises all the while. 

"Mmm, I think he's had enough, Simeon. Let him return the favor, now." 

The order pulled Simeon back into his own head, bringing into painful focus the fact that he wasn't hard. Not anywhere near hard, his cock still soft inside of his sheath. Gale looked like he noticed it, too. Then again, how could he not with his lower leg pressing against Simeon's crotch? 

"I think he'd like it better if I fucked him," Gale said, using a tone that said that Antony was the Owner even if his words were anything but subservient. 

Antony tilted his head; Simeon swallowed hard, sitting back on his knees as Gale pulled his leg out from under Simeon. Antony tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, a soft thump-thump-thump-thump. "Do it," he said, looking directly at Simeon.

Once more, Simeon swallowed hard, but Gale was there, helping him onto his hands and knees, nuzzling his beak against Simeon's shoulder, side, the small of his back, and the sides of his ass. It was sensual, but the sound of the chair creaking as Antony moved was loud in the quiet room even if Simeon wasn't looking at him anymore. 

Simeon dropped down onto his elbows, back bowed, burying his face against the blankets as he tried very, very hard not to listen to the soft clink of the glass jar of oil. The scent of it was strong, even with his face buried there: roses and a hint of jasmine. 

And underneath that scent, Antony's intense arousal, Gale's lesser one and Simeon's fear, though he doubted anyone else could smell it as strongly as he could; cheetahs had better noses than birds and otters. 

This wasn't the first time Simeon had been fucked--it was something that happened more often than he liked--so he was practiced enough at taking deep breaths, relaxing his body, and making himself accept the finger pressed into him. Gale's finger, with his other hand on the small of Simeon's back. The thicker feathers of his forearm were soft against the thinner fur there. 

It was comforting, that touch, and Gale wasn't rough. It would've been good without Antony's thick scent so clear and present, probably, but as it was the only thing it could be was not bad. Not good, not bad. 

Gale nuzzled his beak against the place where Simeon's tail met his ass as he slid a second finger inside along with the first. "You're tense," he murmured. "Are you sure this is okay?"

Simeon took a few breaths, careful to keep them from being too deep; he didn't want to breathe in Antony's scent any more than he was already. Maybe he wasn't relaxing as well as he thought. He nodded, though, top of his head against the sheets. "You can keep going. I'll be okay."

"Not your first time catching an updraft?" Gale asked, chuckling, and nipped the underside of Simeon's tail lightly.

Such an avian saying, that, supposedly from eons ago when their wings weren't vestigial. Simeon found himself smiling without meaning to, except then Gale poured a bit more oil over his fingers and Simeon gasped from the coolness against his hole. As he gasped the scent of Antony's arousal invaded his senses, overpowering all other scents for a few moments.

He shivered, canines digging into his lip to keep himself from making any noise. If someone asked him, he probably couldn't have told them whether it was a good shiver or a bad shiver. Just a reaction to sudden, intense sensations. Maybe. 

"Shhh." Gale rubbed his free hand up Simeon's back, against the grain of the fur, then back down, smoothing what he'd mused. Simeon's eyes slid closed and he felt himself relaxing, no longer paying attention to anything but the fingering. Gale did it four times, and added a few more with-the-grain strokes afterward, which was extra nice. 

Simeon liked being petted, even if most people preferred not to pet him thanks to the size of his teeth.

"Okay," Gale murmured, his beak suddenly close to Simeon's left ear. "I'm going to pull my fingers out so that I can fuck you. Are you ready?"

Just as before, Simeon wasn't hard, but he was as ready as he was ever going to be. He nodded, then realized that Gale probably couldn't see it and added, "Yeah. Do it." As soon as the words were out, he grimaced: he'd unintentionally echoed Antony's words.

It didn't quite feel like a loss when Gale pulled his fingers out, but it definitely felt like an intrusion when the broad head of his cock pressed against Simeon's hole. 

"That looks _nice_ ," Antony said, his voice gravelly, just as Gale pressed the head inside of Simeon. 

"Ahhh," Simeon breathed, out instead of in, tensing up without meaning to. Gale groaned, pushing Simeon's tail to the side and leaning over him, pressing against him from hips to shoulders, beak nuzzling the thick hair at the back of Simeon's neck. 

Over and over, he whispered, "Shh, shh," not moving yet, even though Antony said, "Go, Gale, fuck him."

"Too tight," Gale responded, his voice a bit strained. He petted one hand over Simeon's chest, with the lay of his fur and then back up again. 

Simeon just shivered and shuddered, trying not to breathe too much, trying not to move, trying not to freak out. 

"You never let it stop you before," Antony said, after a few long, uncomfortable moments. 

Tears welled up in Simeon's eyes and he shut his eyes against them but they fell anyway, making the blankets wet and smelling strongly of salt. 

"He's different," Gale said, his voice still strained. "I won't--I can't--just back off, Antony, you're making it worse."

But he didn't pull out yet. Possibly that might hurt. Possibly Simeon didn't care; he couldn't stop shaking long enough to think about anything. It was getting harder and harder to breathe shallowly. Antony stank of anger, now. Anger and arousal. Neither diminished the other, and they both burned in Simeon's nose unpleasantly. 

"Just _do it_ ," Antony growled. 

_No,_ Simeon thought, and then, then Gale pulled out. Simeon wanted to collapse, but Gale's hands were gentle on his hips, guiding him onto his side, facing away from Antony. Even as Simeon thanked him, he wanted to be gone. Away from here. But he was still shaking too badly. 

"I thought you _cared_ about forcing people," Gale said, his voice surprisingly steady.

Antony's chair creaked. "I thought you _cared_ about pleasing me." 

The bed shifted as Gale moved, probably standing up. Simeon curled into a ball, tail between his legs. "You know what?" Gale asked, but didn't give anyone a chance to guess what. "I'm done with this. _Done_."

Was that Simeon's cue to go? Could it be? "Can I go?" he asked, probably too softly. 

"Yes," Antony and Gale said in unison, angry and gentle, counterpoints. 

Simeon had no idea how he got out. He lost some time, and when he was himself again, he couldn't breathe except to wheeze and his heart felt like it was going to beat itself right out of his chest. Right there in the hallway on the second floor's blue, absurdly cushioned rug, Simeon went to his knees because he just couldn't make himself keep going. 

His legs didn't work. His body didn't function, except he was still gasping in breaths, the burn of Antony's arousal in his nose only getting worse even though he wasn't even smelling it anymore, but it was still there. It still burned. All over, he burned. And he still couldn't stop shaking. If he lived through this... nothing. Living through this seemed impossible.

For how long it lasted, he had no clue. None at all.

But it receded in stages. He slowly regained the ability to catch his breath, and realized his throat was raw from--from what? Not breathing? It didn't make sense; it didn't need to. He wasn't going to think about it. 

Okay. Okay. He shook less, and felt less like the world was ending. When he could finally stand--he had a few false starts and ended up on his knees again--he stumbled like he was drunk, but moving was moving and that was fine. He was getting out of here _now_.

╩

Simeon almost wished he could skin himself. He'd felt the oil making his cheeks slide against one another the whole way home, and it was under his tail too, and he just wanted it _off_ so he took a shower. A hot shower.

A very, very hot shower. He scrubbed himself with a bar of soap in each hand--his roommate would forgive him--and rinsed off four times and still didn't feel clean, but he got out of the shower anyway, ingrained habit forcing him to do it.

Workers were technically allowed only one a day, but... but as soon as he'd dried himself off--touching himself was getting more and more unpleasant, the more he did it--Simeon decided that didn't care. They could punish him as much as they wanted. 

He climbed back in the shower and turned it on hot as it would go and sat down on the tiled floor and drew his knees to his chest and cried. Why did he cry? He had no clue. It felt good in a way that the first shower had, felt like--release, maybe.

And the water was nice. He scrubbed himself once more, but it seemed extraneous; he knew the filth wasn't on his fur. It wasn't anywhere he could actually clean.

The worst part, the absolute _worst_ part, he decided, was that he'd liked it. That he still liked Gale. That he'd sleep with Gale, still. That he'd wanted it so badly and everything had gone so very wrong.

That it had been horrible. That he'd wanted it even though it had been horrible. That part of him... he was just going around in circles, but it seemed that his thoughts couldn't do anything else. 

At least he didn't have to go to work tomorrow. And his roommate wouldn't be home tonight; it was the week-end and she always stayed with her lover on the week-ends. 

Simeon could be alone in his misery.

╩

A light knock on the door the following night ended up being Gale. He kept his eyes downcast, not looking at Simeon, and Simeon knew then and there that it was over. Gale didn't want him, not now that he was... after what had happened.

It made sense, but it still felt like getting his hand stuck in a machine. "Hi," Simeon said, softly. 

"Hey," Gale said, almost breathing the word on the exhale and then taking a deep breath. "Sim. I wanted to say that I'm sorry, about... about everything. The sex. Antony. Fighting with him." 

Stupidly, the only thing that Simeon could hear was the nickname. When he was little, it was Simmy; no one had ever called him anything but that and Simeon. "Sim?" 

"Oh, um--I think it's cute, if... if that's okay. I'm sorry if..."

But he didn't say what he was sorry for, and Simeon couldn't say that it was okay. Truly, it wasn't. "I don't mind Sim." It _was_ cute.

Gale smiled for a moment, the soft edges of his beak turning upward. "That's good." 

Simeon had no idea what to say, so the two of them stood there for long moments, Gale in the doorway and Simeon in front of him until he realized he was blocking Gale. He stepped back quickly, hot embarrassment making him duck his head. "Sorry, you can--come in, I mean. I'm not--"

"It's your apartment," Gale said softly, not stepping inside. "Do you want me inside?"

He had no idea, truthfully, but his heart already beat faster and his breath was unsteady. In a good way, he thought, but wasn't sure. Simeon thought about it, and decided that it was a good way. "Yes," he murmured, motioning for Gale to walk in. 

"Thank you," Gale said, and Simeon was pretty sure that nobody had ever thanked him just for letting them into his apartment before. It made him squirm a little, embarrassment compounding. 

Simeon smiled nervously. "No problem."

"Sim," Gale said, breathing it like a--something good. Something nice. "You don't have to say anything; you don't have to _forgive_ me. But... I'm sorry. I hurt you. I'm..." He sounded for a moment like he might say something else, but then sighed and said, "I just, I'm sorry. That's all."

"Thanks," Simeon said. Because it was nice to have an apology. Because it was nice to know that Gale cared. Because Gale still made his heart beat faster. He couldn't meet Gale's eyes, but he saw those clawed feet step closer, so it wasn't a shock when the backs of Gale's fingers brushed his cheek. It didn't feel bad, though Simeon's stomach tightened.

"I want to--I know I can't ever make it _better_ ," his voice twisted, soft but bitter, "but I want to... make you feel good, sometime. Not now."

Why not now? Simeon wondered. Why did Gale get to decide when he made Simeon feel better? That was bullshit, if he was really sorry. "I want you," he said, raising his eyes, only to see that Gale wasn't looking at him. 

But the words made Gale raise his eyes, and Simeon realized that he'd been crying. He could smell the salt, see the redness. 

"Please," Simeon murmured. "I want you. Show me--show me I'm not..." He didn't know how to finish that sentence, though. 

Gale seemed to know what Simeon meant, even so. He leaned in, nuzzling Simeon's neck, blowing hot air over the thick fur and making Simeon shiver. 

Okay. He could do this. Just-- "No penetration."

A nod and Gale's strong fingers in the thin fur of Simeon's lower back were the only response he got, and that was fine by him. Gale's hands were so warm, and he figured out that when he stroked where tail met body that Simeon whimpered. It was a sensitive area, and far enough away from Simeon's hole that it didn't make him freak out or anything.

Good, he thought. Good. And he touched Gale in return, leaning his face against Gale's chest and breathing in the scent of him. Sadness, anxiety, and underneath it, blooming slow like a night flower, arousal. 

Simeon wasn't broken. He could do this. 

And he did, with nuzzles and whispers and slow touches all over one another's bodies: arms, backs, legs, shoulders. The intensity of the touches grew, more pressure and more claws, as they continued until Simeon steered Gale for the bed and they lay down side by side. 

The very first thing that Simeon did was tangle his legs with Gale's and nuzzle his face against Gale's neck, licking the already wet feathers there, Gale's fingers were careful as he reached down to push the sheath out of the way and expose Simeon's cock to the cool air.

Simeon gasped, and the scent that he gasped in was the smell of his own arousal and Gale's as well. He couldn't see it, but he felt the heat of Gale's cock pressing against his thigh through the clothes Gale wore. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, tugging ineffectually on it. 

In theory he knew how clothes worked, but he didn't, not really. There had to be some kind of clasp. Gale would get it, though. He took Simeon's hand by the wrist and made Simeon's fingers trail over the pointed head of his cock.

Just that made Simeon's eyes roll back in his head and give a low, shaky moan. 

"Pretty, pretty Sim; you're so reactive," Gale said. He sounded happy. 

Sim--he liked the nickname--hoped he was happy. Careful as Gale had been, Simeon touched his own cock, just light strokes of one or two fingers. Cheetah cocks weren't especially large or anything, but they _were_ sensitive, and too much would just overload him. As it was, the soft touches had him doing the good kind of trembling, catching Gale's eye. "Touch me?" 

Gale smiled and rolled onto his back, pulling Simeon on top of him with that strength that every Icarus had. Flying was hard work.

But sitting was easy. Straddling Gale's hips, letting his ass rest against--oh, Gale had pushed down his clothes, and the velvet heat of his cock pressing against Simeon's ass was... extremely nice. 

Without words, Gale put his hands on Simeon's belly, just above his cock, and pressed them up and up and up until his claws raked one of Simeon's nipples. It was warm and also nice, a good thing, making Simeon whimper and roll his hips unconsciously. He knew he was doing it, though, because when he did Gale gave a little moan and--so nice.

"Just this," Gale said, almost a question. 

Simeon nodded, ears back and moaning once more as Gale stroked both nipples at the same time. He let his hand trail back down again, and the next thing Sim felt was feathers and then a brief touch of claws (each distinct: one, two, three, four) on his cock. With a choked sound, he came, curling his back convex, knees coming up too, rolling forward and ending up with his knees in Gale's gut and his face in Gale's chest. 

"Sim--I can't--" he said, strained, but for too long all Simeon could do was shake as his cock pulsed and waves of pleasure overrode all conscious thought. By the time Simeon was back in his own mind, Gale had him on his side and looked worried. "Are you okay?" 

Not trusting his voice--his throat felt a little raw--Simeon forced a smile and gave a brief nod. 

Gale paused, and if he'd been something with lips, he probably would've been licking them; he looked pensive. "That was--what was that?" 

"Uh." He looked away from Gale, wrapping his arms around his own chest. "I kind of--it was too much. Your claws. Cats are sensitive." 

"Understatement," Gale murmured, leaned down, and nuzzled his face against Simeon's. "Sorry. I should've--well, I'll be more careful if it happens again." 

The drifty, not quite there part of Simeon's mind noted that it was interesting that Gale didn't say next time. He didn't assume. The rest of him was just quiet, embarrassed, curled in on himself. "I liked it," he said, when the silence stretched between them.

"Good." Scooting closer, laying down, Gale laid one hand over Simeon's waist. Not holding him down, just touching him. 

Again, nice. Very nice. Sim squirmed happily under the touch. 

"Antony--" Simeon tensed at hearing the name "--he's... I'm sorry about him. He tries to--he knows I don't like to force people, and so... it's a, a mess, you know." 

If nothing else, Simeon did know that it was a mess. He couldn't quite catch his breath to say so, though, not until Gale was quiet and obviously expecting some kind of response. "He doesn't realize the implications," was the only thing he could think of that wasn't mean. 

"Right. And I try to explain, and he thinks he understands, but he doesn't. So now he's gotten it into his head that..." 

The pause made Simeon tense up again, holding his breath. 

"He thinks the only way to fix things is to adopt both of us." 

" _What_?" Simeon all but growled in a voice that didn't sound very much like himself. High and low at the same time. 

Owners could adopt someone from a lower caste, making that person an owner--it was part of the system, and what a lot of people tried to strive for, but something Simeon had given up on when he was a teenager. He was fine with his place, now; he didn't want to be adopted. He didn't want to be a social pariah and the idea of owning furs made his stomach turn. 

"I don't want--it's not a solution," Gale whispered, fingers stroking Simeon's side gently. "But the more I say it's a bad idea, the more determined he gets. He's like that." 

It was a truly awful idea in every way; Gale knew that. Simeon knew that. Antony would never believe that. He'd been taught that all people in lower castes wanted to be Owners, that it was the best thing to be. 

Antony would never understand. "I can't do it," he whispered. "I'd die sooner."

Gale nuzzled his beak against Simeon's forehead, his fingers petting the top of the base of Simeon's tail. "I thought so. But we can't do anything else." 

They couldn't, in theory. But in practice there were always options. Dying. Abandoning the city. There were furs who lived on the ground, furs who didn't give two shits about a caste system or owning people. Furs who had to be better than Antony. 

Groundlings.

It was an awful idea, but not any worse than Antony adopting both of them. "Would you become a groundling for me?" he asked, soft and serious.

Gale's eyes went wide, his fingers stopping all movement, beak open slightly. He started to shake his head, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, they were focused, determined. "I think so," he said, with a half-smile.

No. Simeon wasn't going to risk his life, his right foot, and his position at Antony's warehouse on an _I think so_. He pulled away from Gale, stumbling a little, but quickly gained his bearings, walking over to the dresser he kept his things in and opening the top drawer. 

Simeon knew he probably didn't have enough in the way of valuables to pay his entire way, but he didn't mind doing groundling work for whoever got them out. It was the way it worked, sometimes. "You're either coming or you're not," he said, already sorting through the drawer, separating sentimental from actually valuable. 

He found his mother's earrings, the one her Owner had given her when she had Simeon. It was customary for an Owner to give a new mother a boon, as the Owner benefited from the birth and not having to raise the child. Simeon picked them up, biting his lip. The earrings were simple hoops that varied oddly in width, platinum set with emeralds. She'd told him that Antony's father had meant for the emeralds be the same color as her eyes, but her eyes were bluer than the almost muddy looking green of these emeralds. 

Such was the worth of a birth-gift: a piece flawed enough to not appeal to Owners. Simeon clenched his hand around them, and hoped that they'd be enough.

Some time while he'd been studying the earrings, Gale had gotten up off the bed, but Simeon had failed to notice so the sudden touch of Gale's hands on his arms from behind startled him. He whirled around, still gripping the earrings, eyes wide and heart beating in his throat. 

"I'm coming," Gale said, simply. He looked sad. 

The absent wish to stay wasn't far from Simeon's mind, either, but it was foolish. Childish, like wanting to keep misshapen earrings because they'd belonged to his mother. "Do you know how to get in contact with the groundlings?" 

Gale grimaced. "Everyone knows how to get in contact with the groundlings."

It was true. Simeon nodded. "Do you think you can--" 

"It's better if you do it," Gale said quickly. "They keep an eye on every Icarus in the sky. And Antony would notice if I failed to return home."

Gale _lived_ with Antony? That was--fuck. No wonder he was so wishy-washy about things. He didn't even have a place to go that was free of Antony. It wasn't common, but not unheard of; Simeon wondered about the story behind it, but chose not to ask. 

Instead he opened his hand and looked down at the earrings. "I'll arrange things, then. Is--is there any way you can convince Antony to let you stay somewhere else for a night? A head start would be... useful." Or that was how other people did it, from what Simeon had heard. 

The pained look on Gale's face said no even before he shook his head and murmured a soft, "I doubt it." 

Well. Simeon had spent years slapping together temporary fixes for machines for the cheapest Owner in the sky; this couldn't be much worse. And he'd inadvertently learned how to be covert from Antony. "If I wink at you when you come to the factory, corner me with some order from Antony, okay?" 

Gale nodded. He still looked pained. "I'm sorry I can't--" 

"No," Sim said, short and sharp. "Stop being sorry. Start keeping your valuables on you. Be ready." 

The expression on Gale's face shifted from pained to surprised, then to resolved and he nodded once. "Be careful," was all he said before giving Simeon a little nuzzle and leaving, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Simeon opened the second drawer down and pulled out his needle and thread; he was going to have to sew a few secret pouches on his tool belt.

╩

It was so easy that Simeon ended up being wary of the entire thing. His roommate knew someone who knew someone, and she said that they were legit. Patti and Armand, who'd ran away two months ago, had supposedly done it with the help of these people.

He hadn't known Patti and Armand, but he'd heard about the fact that they'd escaped. Antony was friends with their Owner, and he'd cursed down one trolley and up the other about it, as apparently Patti had been pregnant and the Owner was supposedly the father. Not that the child would become an Owner, but he'd apparently viewed it as more of an insult because of that. 

Remembering the whole thing made him shudder. The penalty for running, if one was caught, was the loss of one foot and two months in lock-up. Two days would probably see Sim dead or insane in that place; he couldn't even imagine two months. 

The person Simeon ended up meeting for lunch in the loudest establishment he'd ever been in--his ears went back, trying to block some of the sound, tip of his tail twitching in annoyance as he entered--was some kind of canine something or other. He'd have said husky, but she was far too small to be a husky, though the markings were similar.

She leaned in and breathed in his nose, and he did the same. It was a mutual trust thing--smell my scent, smell what I am feeling and who I am and know me type situation that Workers did with one another. Simeon wouldn't have been able to explain it to Gale, who didn't have the nose that feline and canine species did, not to mention that he was an Icarus.

But all of that was neither here nor there. Simeon was perhaps a bit more nervous than he cared to admit, even if she smelled fine. Not husky scent, so his assumption had been right, but he couldn't place the scent. Female parts. A bit apprehensive, but confident and pleased about something. Probably the money she'd no doubt make from this. 

"Over here," she shouted in Sim's ear, leading him to a little round table in a back corner. The two chairs at the table were extremely close together, but Simeon had to lean down, elbows on the table, so she could talk into his ear. 

"There's no set price. You show me your valuables and I tell you if it's good enough. The Icarus will have to meet me himself; I don't do secondhand dealings." 

It was probably safer for her that way, but it made Simeon's life more complicated. He nodded, even so, and reached into the new pouches in his tool belt. Four of them in all, and he set each piece on the table, his other arm blocking the valuables from view by the rest of the patrons. 

Patrons--what a joke. All the money came from the Owners and went back to them through places like this; it was why Sim made it a point to never go out.

In addition to the earrings, Simeon had three more things. The most valuable to his eyes was a flottar lighter that he'd found on the floor of the factory and later discovered belonged to an Icarus who had visited for a contract interview a few weeks before Antony contracted Gale. The other Icarus had never returned, and Gale seemed to come out of nowhere; no one ever asked about the lighter. 

A pin that marked Simeon's position as lead mechanic in the factory, made out of soft but pretty gold and pewter, was probably the next most valuable thing. Finally, there was a fountain pen that he'd stolen from Antony's desk when he was much younger. It was made out of a rather pretty, swirly reddish orange stone and gold, but the ink had dried up long ago. 

She looked them over for a moment, then nodded and picked them up one by one, putting each in a different pocket in her vest, shirt, and pants. "I'll contact the Icarus separately; Gale is his name?" 

"Yes," he said, speaking into her floppy ear. "I'll tell him to expect it; what do I call you?" 

"Ghost," she said, simply, and walked away. 

Simeon had brought a few bills--they were worthless on the ground, and too easy to trace, so they were useless as payment--and treated himself to a few celebratory drinks before he stumbled home. 

The next morning when Gale landed on the platform, Simeon winked at him. An hour later, Gale cornered Sim with a question Antony had supposedly asked about how long the worked flottar would suffice if he decided not to spring for new; Simeon told him both his estimation and about Ghost. Gale nodded once, walked back to Antony's office, and flew out of the building not very long after.

On the way home all Simeon could think was that it had been too easy. Nothing in life was ever this easy, in his experience.

╩

But it really was. Whatever valuables Gale had were enough for her; Simeon hadn't dared ask him to come over so he could see what they were for fear that Antony would figure out their plan. He had a feeling like a thick steel gear in the pit of his stomach that no matter what he did, Antony was going to find out. Somehow. Simeon hadn't personally witnessed it, but it seemed like he kept Gale on a tight rein.

And then there was the part where they lived together. 

He didn't need to think about that right now, though. Two days ago, Ghost had sent messages to them separately giving a rendezvous point and instructing them to be there at moonrise tonight--the first day of the week-end--and bring nothing. No clothes, trinkets, _nothing_. Without any items from the sky, it would be much harder to trace their origin on the ground; there were headhunters, of course. 

But before nightfall, Antony sent Sim a message summoning him. Here's your complication, Simeon told himself. He'd been hoping to be proven wrong. 

The second he arrived, he knew he'd been proven right, though. The scent of Antony's anger preceded him, and his eyes were angry, jaw set, as he opened the door. 

At least he waited until he'd escorted Simeon to a private room to let loose. It was rather smaller and less elaborate than the third-floor bedroom, and Gale sat on the bed, his hands bound in front of him and hopelessness on his face. 

If they missed the rendezvous in three hours, they were never getting out of the sky. 

"So you've talked Gale into becoming a deserter," Antony said, words quick, clipped, but not growly. Yet. 

Simeon ducked his head; he couldn't look at Gale. He knew what he was going to say, but it took him a few deep breaths before he could get it out. "I'd rather die than stay here," he said, and despite the deep breaths the words came out softly. 

Antony's brows furrowed and he shook his head. "I'm not _that_ bad," he spat, and took the two steps to the bed to grab one of Gale's shoulders. "I'm _not_ that bad."

Gale didn't say anything for what felt like hours but maybe was only a minute. "Adopting us would..." he trailed off, sighed, and started again. "It wouldn't be a kindness for you to adopt Sim and I."

"But you want us to be even!" Antony protested, shaking his head again. "That's the only way."

"We would _not_ be even," Simeon growled, angry at himself, angry at Antony for not understanding any of this. Angry at the skies for being this way. "We don't even want to be adopted to begin with! None of our friends would talk to us. We would have no one but you, and we'd still owe _everything_ to you. How is that _even_?"

Antony's mouth snapped shut and he looked at the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're my most valuable workers," he said, a few moments later. 

They weren't. Truly, they were no better than anyone else. It was only that Antony trusted Simeon and Gale, and he didn't trust the others. The solution was--

"So we have to stay because _you_ need _us_. Is that even?" Gale asked, before Sim could work through his thoughts.

"I'm the Owner," Antony said, unapologetic. "That's the way it works."

"That's why we want to leave," Gale said, his voice soft. 

Antony frowned. "You don't think every Worker, every Icarus, wants to leave? Why do you get to be special?"

Because you forced me, Simeon thought, but amended it to _us_ as he no longer believed that Gale's relationship with Antony had been consensual to begin with. Sim didn't want to say that, though, and looked to Gale for help. "You know why," Gale said.

The frown grew deeper, and Antony uncrossed his arms and gave Gale a hard look. "You wouldn't dare accuse me... I did everything you said!"

"It's inherently unequal," Simeon growled. "The entire thing. You're the Owner. You might make things sound like requests, but what happens if we disobey?"

"Punishment," Antony answered automatically. "Or, if it's bad enough, I'll sell you."

"Exactly," Gale said. "You're the Owner. We'll never be even."

Not just that, though. There was way, way too much history at this point, in Simeon's opinion, for either of them to ever feel safe belonging to--or even just being contracted to--Antony ever again. 

Antony took a step back, one hand in front of him defensively. "Look, I... you should've told me this a while ago."

"I tried," Gale ground out, sounding like the words were painful to say. "How can you think I hadn't?"

Simeon imagined that Antony was going over every little spat that he and Gale had had. Every conversation, everything, because his brows furrowed more and he shook his head, saying, "No, I didn't... But you said..."

Gale nodded at him. "Yes. I did say."

"Why?"

"How could I say no to begin with when you rescued me from lock-up? Sleeping you was _nothing_ compared to four nights of lock-up." Gale's voice was soft and reasonable, carefully modulated no doubt to try and not make it sound like an accusation. 

"I didn't realize," Antony protested, but he didn't sound like he believed it.

Gale laughed, though it sounded hysterical. Just a little. "You paid the fines; you know exactly what you saved me from."

Simeon couldn't breathe. _That_ had been Gale's first time with Antony? The likelihood that he didn't know what he was doing adopting both of them seemed less and less the more he heard.

They weren't going to get out of here. Simeon's heart about beat through his chest and the world spun and they weren't going to get out of here, they were going to be Antony's for the rest of their lives. He'd never let them die and he'd keep them forever and forever would be nothing but Antony. Just Antony. 

Without meaning to, Sim went to his knees, clutching his chest, shaking and gasping for breath that just wouldn't come. They were going to belong to Antony. He was going to get raped every day and twice a day on weekends. This would be the rest of his life.

They were talking, but it was all indistinct to Simeon; he wasn't even hearing specific words anymore. But he did feel it when someone touched his shoulder, and when he looked up and it was Antony he jerked away so hard that he slammed himself against the wall, hit his head, and passed out on the spot.

╩

Simeon came to with Gale on one side and the wall on the other. It made his breath short, but he guessed that was better than Antony. "Sorry," he mumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position, not surprised that his head spun a little and his muscles were weak.

"Don't be, Sim," Gale said, and it was then he realized that his hands were untied and Gale had one had cupped around the back of Simeon's neck, claws scratching the thick fur lightly. It felt nice. 

Antony sat on the bed, just looking at them. 

"So," Gale said, looking at Antony. "We still have enough time to make it to the rendezvous. Are you going to stop us?" 

The question had the nature of one that was part of a larger discussion, one that had probably happened while Sim was passed out. Before he could make his mind work well enough to respond, Antony said, "Let me ask him first." 

Gale shrugged and pulled away, but his hand found Sim's and the squeeze he gave made Simeon's heart rate slow to only moderately fast. "Ask me what?"

"Does that, that _thing_ that was happening..." Antony paused, looking pained, and then continued. "What I'm asking is: does it happen every time?"

What thing? Not being able to breathe? Freaking out? Simeon's brows drew together, ears laid back, and he looked at Gale for help, but Gale only nodded, and what help was that? Yes, tell him? But... 

"The answer doesn't make a difference," Antony said softly. "It's only for my own peace of mind." 

Simeon tried to speak, but all that came out was a cough, because his breathing wasn't really normal. He closed his eyes and forced all his breath out, then breathed it back in a few times. Okay. His ears were still back, but everything seemed a lot more steady when he opened his eyes. 

Okay. Antony _said_ it didn't make a difference, but Simeon didn't trust that. "I can't," he said, simply, and looked away. 

"It does, doesn't it?" Gale asked. "One of the house Workers said you had some trouble leaving, before. And in Antony's office, too. He was more right than he realized when he said I'd broken you." 

No. Not Gale's fault. Never Gale's fault. Except it had been, a bit. Simeon swallowed, studying the grain of the dresser he half rested against, not answering. 

"And now," Antony said, closer than Simeon had expected. Without meaning to, his breath caught and he looked wide-eyed at Antony, who just sighed, nodded, and stepped back. "Go. Both of you, before I change my mind."

Simeon tried to move, but his limbs didn't want to support him. Gale helped him up; Antony stood back. Looking over his shoulder as they walked out of the room, the last Sim saw of Antony was his handsome muzzle frowning, big, expressive eyes full of pain and tiny otter ears laid back against his head. 

He didn't have time to think about anything, though. The pace Gale set was fast, and Simeon still had a little trouble walking, between not being able to catch his breath and his legs being a bit weak. 

They made it to the rendezvous. Ghost hadn't told them how they'd be leaving, but when she pulled the frame of a glider out of the bushes and showed them how to assemble it, Gale laughed delightedly. "My last flight," he said, and helped, leaving Simeon sitting on a cool rock in a bit of a daze. 

It was happening. They were going to leave; they were going to be groundlings. Going to be _free_. He couldn't believe it.

Whatever instructions Ghost gave, it didn't matter if she gave them only to Gale. Simeon heard about a quarter of what she said, and was fine with that, since he was back to shaking. They'd be free. Groundlings. 

It seemed like a whirl of words and movement happening around him, but less than a half-hour after they'd arrived the glider was assembled and Ghost helped Simeon into the bottom spot--room for two, and no more. 

Gale had used a glider before. Simeon's heart beat in his chest, but it didn't feel bad, or at least not bad as before. The take-off was the hard part, though they were near cliffs so as long as they evened out before they got to the bottom it wouldn't be awful, she said. 

Simeon laughed belatedly at that--she was already on to explaining the steering mechanism--but it felt good to laugh. 

They were going to be free. 

He had no idea how much longer it was before she finished explaining, but the moon had dipped below the horizon and the sky was lit only by stars. "The sun will start to rise within the hour; go it now or you won't reach the ground safely," she said, and stepped back from the cliffs. 

It ended up being far, far easier than it should've. Less trouble than freaking out. Gale steered the glider easily, and whispered instructions in Sim's ear. Their tails were excellent rudders, and Simeon kept his wrapped around the base of Gale's. 

Flying was exhilarating, but Simeon couldn't help thinking of what Gale had said: his last flight. Sad that in order to be free, he had to give something like this up. But when the choices were what they were, the decision was easy, wasn't it? 

They landed at the edge of a forest--only Gale's skill kept them from flying straight into a tree's branches--and disassembled the glider. Ghost had given them a backpack with basic survival supplies, and instructions on how to turn the glider into a lean-to if it happened to rain before they reached civilization. 

Staying where they landed wasn't safe, so they walked across the meadow and toward the way they'd come. In the grey light of early dawn, the chain of islands they'd both spent their lives on stood out starkly in the sky. 

"It feels odd," Gale said, at some point. "Walking, I mean. Knowing I'll never fly again." His vestigial wings flapped once, though Simeon had no idea of it was a conscious motion or not. 

He wanted to say he was sorry, but knew Gale would knock it down. Instead he said, "It feels odd for the ground not to sway under us." Both of them had stumbled a fair bit when they began walking, but now, with the morning sun at their backs, they'd gotten the hang of it. 

They stopped not long after midday, both of them drooping and half-asleep, and cleared an area of sticks before laying out a blanket. Gale spooned behind Simeon, but Sim was asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes; he didn't have the energy to enjoy it right now.

╩

Simeon knew he wasn't at home even before he opened his eyes. The ground didn't move, the air wasn't cool, and he was surrounded by unfamiliar things: scents, sounds, and the form of someone spooned behind him.

There were familiar things wrapped up in all that unfamiliarity, though. Gale's scent, the barely audible whistle of his breath in and out, the blanket that was the same type that he'd had on his bed since he was a child. Not soft, not scratchy, grey material that always smelled of cotton and the sun.

Behind him, Gale murmured softly in his sleep, shifting, wrapping his arm tighter around Simeon's middle and rocking his hips against Sim's. The half-hard tip rubbed just below his tail and he found himself biting his lip at the unexpected jolt of pleasure shot through him. 

He wondered what Gale was dreaming of. Who. Antony? Simeon? Some other nameless conquest of his and Antony's? Inside of his sheath, Simeon's cock twitched, and he bit his lip. Despite physical responses, he didn't want this. Not now, not today. It was too soon, and he found himself trying to pull away. 

Gale woke up at that, humming and rubbing his hand from Simeon's chest down to his belly and back again. 

Unsure, Simeon held as still as he could, barely even breathing as he waited to see what Gale did. 

"Sim?" Gale whispered, drawing his hand away from Simeon's chest. "Are you okay?"

As soon as Gale's fingers weren't on him anymore, Simeon sighed, breath coming out in a rush, head spinning a little. If he was free, he could say it now. He pushed himself up, crossing his legs and facing Gale, though he couldn't meet Gale's dark eyes. "I--I don't want it," he said, voice trembling and unsure. 

"Want what?" Gale asked, speaking slowly. 

"Sex." Simeon all but squeaked the word, hands curled into nervous fists, eyes on the mused blanket beneath them. He made himself take a deep breath and do the entire sentence: "I don't want sex. Not yet." 

The sight of Gale's fingers coming toward him made Simeon's breath catch, but all Gale did was cup his hand around the outside of Simeon's knee and give a little squeeze. "Then we won't do it."

Hearing Gale say that was even more dizzying than earlier. Sim clutched the blanket for fear of falling off of it, all but sobbing grateful breaths in and out. They wouldn't do it. The entire issue was that simple: Simeon didn't want sex, so Gale wouldn't make advances. Easy. His heart beat fast in his chest, but he wasn't sure it was a bad thing.

At least until he realized that he had freedom now. Real freedom. To say no, to go where he liked. To tell Gale what to do, to keep his counsel. To do anything. _Anything_. 

It was that last thought that made Simeon's ears lay back as he leaned forward, still sobbing breath, mind racing. Anything. He could do anything. Possibilities were endless and he had to decide what he wanted to do. He had no clue, _none_ , what he wanted, except for the immediate. The future was limitless and that scared him to death.

Sim barely felt Gale's hands on his shoulders. Well, no, he didn't feel them at all until he came back to himself, at which point Gale's scent filled his mind and he found himself reaching out, clutching Gale, burying his face in that chest of downy feathers and fur. 

"Shh, shh," Gale said, or had he been saying it all along? Simeon had no idea. "It's okay. It'll be okay, Sim, I promise. Don't worry; we'll figure things out. Shhhh."

"S-sorry," Simeon said, or sobbed, and was surprised to find his eyes full of tears, his voice thick with them. He curled his tail around both of them. "Sorry. Sorry."

Gale nuzzled Sim's shoulder and rubbed Simeon's back, gentle but not sexual at all. "It'll be okay." 

It would. Eventually. They sat together like that until Simeon's breathing returned to normal, at which point he dozed and woke up with his back aching. Gale's fingers were strong as he rubbed at the points of tension. "So. The entire groundling world ahead of us. Where would you like to go?"

Caves. Oceans. Deserts. More meadows, more forests. Everywhere. Simeon shook his head; he couldn't decide. He could just agree or disagree. 

"There's groundling money in our pack," Gale said. "I reckon we should find somewhere to live."

"No," Simeon said, voice still soft. "I want to go everywhere." 

Gale smiled, that open, broad smile that Simeon had fallen in love with. "Then we'll travel." He pointed to their right. "That way. Okay?"

Simeon nodded. They would go that way, and they'd make more choices as they wanted. He could deal with that. 

More than deal, though. He could enjoy that.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rules](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020899) by [kkscatnip (autohaptic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/autohaptic/pseuds/kkscatnip)




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